Friend in Need
by ellapuppy
Summary: Written with the idea that Wilson would visit House in prison


Wilson stood on the balcony, alone. He was watching Taub's car as it pulled out the parking lot, maybe for the last time. It was to be expected. Without House here there was little reason for him to stay. Taub had always been honest about that, he was here to work with House.

13 had walked out the day after "the incident" as everyone around here referred to it. Or "the accident". Although Wilson was never sure what part they thought was accidental,  
>House almost running him over, House hitting the front wall perfectly between the supporting beams or Cuddy getting involved with him in the first place. None of it had been accidental. If it had been then this all would be so much easier to deal with.<p>

Chase went next, about a week later, but not to any new job. No, he told Wilson he'd be going back to Australia "for the duration" to do some surfing and said to call him the minute House was back. Wilson had argued House could be doing as little as four months and maybe Chase should just go surf in Florida or California or where ever blond Gentile boys went when they either had too much money or not enough.

"That's four months with good behavior" Chase's smile had seemed almost proud but the thought of "good behavior" in prison scared the hell out of Wilson. He was still trying to get approval to go see House, and to be given access as his doctor considering House's "special needs". Wilson had called in some favors, called in some of House's favors too. He would make this happen.

"There is no way he is going to get out early on good behavior, but he will get out.  
>And then you will get him back here and I will be back. Tell him...something appropriate from me," and with that Chase was gone.<p>

That had been over a month ago and permission to go see House had just come through.  
>Wilson had to reschedule a department meeting to free himself up for visiting hours.<br>And was when it all started.

Foreman in an overly tailored suit, stood in front of Wilson's desk. One hand deep in his pants pocket, pulling back the jacket and exposing the expensive satin lining (that was how Wilson knew it was overly tailored) the other hand on the back of his neck and for one moment Wilson wondered if Foreman was doing that on purpose to mock him.

"You rescheduled the department meeting. I told you I had planned to speak to you guys about some new equipment that day."

"Yeah, I remember" Wilson started packing papers into his brief case. Not even sure what papers they were, he just wanted an excuse not to look at Foreman, at least until he stopped rubbing the back of his neck.

"I also got a request from the New Jersey Association of Prison Physicians asking for my OK on having you assigned to House."

"Good," Wilson looked up. His voice was pleasant, his expression wasn't. "He has no chance to make it through all this if he's in pain. We both know that"

"So you asked for this assignment in order to make sure he gets his vicodin?" Foreman sat down in the chair House used to use. That bothered Wilson too. Damn this was not going well.

"To make sure he is not in so much pain he screws up. Again. To make sure he has someone to talk to and something to look forward to" now even his voice had stopped being pleasant. "To make sure he's alright'

"Why? Why bother at all? He isn't coming back here, you've accepted that, right?"  
>Foreman spoke well, evenly, softly with just a hint of concern. He was good at his job.<p>

"I am not even thinking about that right now. He's my friend and...

"He's a felon who could have killed people. Could have killed you. He doesn't need a friend, he needs someone to make him understand he can't do stuff like that and not ...

Wilson cut him off "You think there aren't enough people lined up to make sure he gets that? The state of New Jersey, the guards, his cellmate, the board, his fellow doctors. Maybe he also needs one person on his side."

"God, I thought you were past that. I thought a broken wrist, three months without a word, dealing with Cuddy. I thought all that might have helped you detox from him"

Wilson sat back in his chair, stopped pushing papers into the briefcase. He just wanted to get this conversation over with. "Go ahead" he motioned with his hand as if urging along a reluctant high school debater.

"I just mean, Cuddy was your friend too. You owe her not to give "aid and comfort" to the man who ruined her life"

Wilson looked past Foreman, out to the balcony and gathered his thoughts. "I have had three wives walk out on me One of them did it twice. I can't even begin to remember all the women who've left me.  
>I've had my credit cards maxed out. I found one wife in our bed with her lover,<br>I had a college sweetheart call my mother and complain about my infidelities. I had a one night stand take with my wallet and my medical bag. I've had things thrown at me, I've been slapped and called names porn stars would be reluctant to use. And you know what? I took it all and stayed the nice guy. Never so much as raised my voice. I made all the arrangements for the divorces. I paid for both lawyers. I paid all the alimonies. I called the movers and went to the post office for change of address cards. I kept sending birthday gifts and made house calls when their kids got sick"

Now he looked back at Foreman, "and what he did was horrible and wrong and illegal and dangerous and the magnificent son of a bitch drove his car into her house. I didn't even have the guts to ..."

Wilson got up to leave "I'm going to see my friend"


End file.
